Saturday 31 March 2012

Renaissance Religious Drama

English drama in the Renaissance turned from the sacred to the secular. Over the sixteenth century, medieval religious plays gave way to the worldly subject matter of the Elizabethan and Jacobean stage. This shift is marked by continuity as much as departure, however, and Renaissance drama frequently adopts ideas from late medieval theatre. Under pressures which made the production of religious plays all but impossible, Renaissance dramatists transformed some of the traditional character types and situations of native drama into new secular versions, and thus appealed to an audience whose imagination had been formed by the old mysteries, saint plays and moralities.

Mystery Plays

Before the Reformation, practically all plays in England were explicitly religious. Dramatic performances were overseen by the Church, and their function was to celebrate Christian festivals and instruct audiences about the scriptures and church teachings. The great mystery cycles told the story of Christian history from Creation to Doomsday, the central element of which is man’s relation to God – from the Fall from Grace, to Redemption through the sacrifice of Christ, and finally the attainment of Salvation by repentance and atonement. The mystery plays were performed by amateurs in public spaces in the towns after which the various cycles are named – most famously Chester, York, Wakefield, and Coventry. Having perhaps reached their height in the fourteenth centuries, the mystery cycles continued into the sixteenth century and were still being performed into the life of Shakespeare. But their influence was fading, and the various forces ranged against them makes their eventual extinction seemed inevitable.

These forces were primarily political. When in 1533 Henry VIII broke with Rome and had himself proclaimed supreme governor of the Church in England, plays fell under the jurisdiction of the monarch, not the Pope. Now that religious ideas were politically highly sensitive, it was safer for dramatists to turn to other forms, such as classically based plays. With their close associations with Rome, the mystery plays were naturally objects of suspicion for the authorities. Their colour, festivity and exuberance was at odds with the strand of Protestantism which exhorted the faithful to look beyond the pleasures of the world and contemplate their own imminent mortality, while the story of salvation they told could not be reconciled with the Calvinist creed of predestination. Indeed, the fact that mystery cycles continued to be performed for some decades after the break with Rome is testament to their popularity. In the reign of Elizabeth I, anti-Catholic feelings grew: the activities of the Spanish inquisition in the 1560s, the Catholic rebellion in the north of 1569, the formal excommunication of Elizabeth by the Pope (1570), the St Bartholemew’s Day Massacre (1572) and the formation of the Catholic League (1585) with the express pupose of extinguishing Protestantism in England all fostered a violent anti-Catholic feeling and led to the end of the mystery plays. The Chester cycle ended in 1574 (interestingly, the Mayor was summoned before the Privy Council in 1575 to explain why an illegal performance had been permitted, and pleaded that the citizens had demanded it), York and Wakefield in 1576 and Coventry in 1581.

Besides these changes in the political and religious climate, certain cultural shifts may also have made the mystery plays anomalous. Originally, performances of these dramatisations of the scriptures may well have been more formal and stylised, recognisably linked to the solemn enactment of the liturgy in church. With the rise of humanism and naturalism, however, this formalism and sanctity was eroded by more robust and irreverent characterisation of wicked or minor characters: hence Noah’s wife, the three shepherds before they behold Christ, Cain and Herod all arise as naturally expressive, human types. Such characterisation was incompatible with the more abstract presentation of holiness, and so God and Christ ceased to appear in the dramas, which were perhaps becoming an occasion for popular mirth and festivity rather than a pious contemplation of the great mysteries. This worldliness was echoed in staging which responded to public desire for a gorgeous pageant: individual plays were usually financed by particular guilds, who no doubt competed with each other to put on the most colourful show. Ironically, it is these elements of the mysteries, arguably at odds with their original purpose, which were the most influential on later drama: Shakespeare’s Shylock is recognisably based on the lively devils of earlier mysteries; the provision of an enjoyable spectacle was taken up by the London companies, for whom the wardrobe was the single greatest expenditure. The popularity of the morality play, satisfying a taste for drama as polemic, also contributed to the demise of biblical drama. Finally, the dominance of the professional London-based companies over taste and repertoire can only have hastened the demise of the provincial, amateur theatre represented by the mysteries.

Morality Plays

Like the mysteries, morality plays instructed their mainly illiterate audience through theatrical entertainment. But while mystery and miracle plays dramatize stories from the Bible and the lives of the saints, morality plays deal with the struggle between vices and virtues for the soul of man – a drama of internal spiritual struggle known as psychomachia. In this way conceptual issues could be made concrete and memorable. Moralities are essentially dramatized sermons, and their characters are personified abstractions representing such things as Charity, Pride, Wealth, Death, Humility and so forth. Their stories are not related to any specific days in the Church calendar, and  could thus be performed at any time. As in the mystery and miracle dramas, performers were often amateurs from the guilds, playing to popular audiences in yards, guildhalls and other extempore settings.

About thirty morality plays survive. From the fifteenth century among the best known are The Castle of Perseverance (c.1415), in which the soul is a castle besieged by the forces of the devil, Mankind and Everyman (c.1495). The genre continued into the sixteenth century, often taking on clear political resonances. In Skelton’s Magnifycence (c.1515) ‘a prince of great might’ (Magnificence) dismisses Measure and is led astray by Vices (including Counterfeit Countenance and Cloaked Collusion), before being rescued and returned to greatness by Charity, Good Hope and Perseverance. The play is a clear satirical attack on Cardinal Wolsey and his lavish spending habits. John Bale’s King Johan (1539) took the morality form even further by having named characters: his protagonist is the historical King John, who struggles to save Widow England and her son blind Commonalty from Sedition and the Roman Catholic Church. John is beset by Vices who are also personally identified: Usurped Power (the Pope), Sedition (Archbishop Stephen Langton), and Private Wealth (Cardinal Pandolpho). A parallel is intended with Henry VIII’s own contest with the Papacy. Unattractive propaganda though it is,  King Johan is the first play to make use of themes from English history, and thus represents a link between medieval abstract moralities and the later history plays of Marlowe and Shakespeare.

In the court of Henry VIII the morality play effectively merges with the Interlude. Examples of ‘moral interludes’ include the anonymous Hickscorner (c.1513) and Wever’s Lusty Juventus (c.1510). Moral interludes include individuals as well as allegorical types among the characters, and depict the Vices in increasingly comic terms: Pride, Gluttony and Self-Love are characterised as clowns and buffoons. The rise of the Vice to star performer is attested in other ways: while morality plays usually involve a lot of doubling of parts, the Vice was played by only one actor, who would be the most accomplished player. The actor playing the Vice also collected money from spectators at halls and innyards: it was his performance that drew in the crowds and the money. Unsurprisingly, it is the figure of the Vice whonis most readily recognisable in later Renaissance drama: examples are the servant Miles, who rides on the devil’s back in Robert Greene’s Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay (1594), the main character the Jew Barabas in Marlowe’s The Jew of Malta (c.1589) and Wagenr in Dr Faustus (c.1588). The latter play also shows the influence of the old moralities in the debates of the Good and Bad Angels and the presentation of the seven deadly sins. Various Shakespearean characters can also be traced back to the anarchic morality Vice: Hal refers to Falstaff as ‘that reverend Vice, that grey Iniquity’ (1 Henry IV, 2.5.413); Richard III declares ‘Thus, like the formal vice Iniquity, / I moralize two meanings in one word’ (3.1.82); and Hamlet refers to his uncle Claudius as ‘a vice of kings’ (3.4.88). In Shakespeare echoes of the morality vice range from the childlike Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream to Othello’s tormentor, the villainous Iago and to the scheming and vengeful Edmund in King Lear. In such characters Shakespeare picks up on and develops possibilities latent in the simple morality dramas: the contending feelings of attraction and repulsion that the Vice induces in us, the mixture villains can present of attractive qualities (cleverness, observation, humour, realism) with depraved moral intentions, and the spectrum of human wrongdoing, from playful mischief  to utter malevolence.

Besides the figure of the Vice, combining laughter with literally devilish action, morality plays influenced later Renaissance drama in other ways.  They establish the idea of psychomachia as the central action. From Marlowe’s Faustus to Shakespeare’s Macbeth and Hamlet, it is this dramatic conflict within the main character that is the focus of the drama. Morality plays and interludes also incorporate topical material concerning government and social order as subjects for drama. Hamlet’s description of players as ‘the abstract [summing-up] and brief chronicles of the time’ (2.2.481) could be used of earlier plays such as Skelton’s that used the morality form as a device to comment on contemporary matters. The earlier dramas also employed stage conventions that lived on in the scenes and gestures of later works. Powerful scenarios such as that of Edgar, disguised as the beggar Poor Tom, leading his blinded father Gloucester in King Lear must have awakened memories of personifications of Mankind and the virtuous agents that seek to help him in distress. Some scenes, such as the knocking at the door of the castle in Macbeth after Duncan’s murder look even further back: in this case, there is a clear allusion to the mystery plays showing the Harrowing of Hell – the scene in which Christ after his crucifixion visits hell with St Michael to save the souls of those in purgatory, terrifying the devils within.


Protestant Drama

Some writers in the earlier part of our period used the form of medieval religious dramas as a vehicle for Protestant propaganda. John Bale (1495-1563), an ex-Carmelite monk turned zealous Protestant, wrote several plays (all c.1538-40) violently attacking Catholicism. God’s Promises is a Protestant mystery cycle, comprising seven scenes in which biblical figures obtain a renewal of the covenant from God. The flavour of Three Laws is suggested by stage directions stipulating that Sodomy should appear dressed as a monk, Ambition as a bishop, and Hypocrisy as a Greyfriar. King Johan energetically cheers on Henry VIII’s battle with the papacy. These works found little official favour, however, and on the fall of his patron Thomas Cromwell, Bale was forced to flee the country. Religious polemic on stage was perceived as dangerous: it threatened to undermine the control of religious thought by the authorities, and could moreover lead to public affray. Such presumably were the motives behind the 1543 Act banning ‘interpretations of Scripture ... contrary to the doctrine set forth, or to be set forth, by the King’s Majesty.’ In the reign of Edward VI (1547-1553) the state turned more decisively to Calvinist Protestantism and the influence of this theology can be found in some plays. Jacob and Esau (c.1557), possibly by Nicholas Udall, clearly presents the Calvinist doctrine of predestination. In the Prologue we are told that ‘Jacob was chosen and Esau reprobate’ and Isaac says in prayer to God: ‘Of thy iustice, whom it pleaseth thee, thou doest reiect, / Of thy mercy, whom [it] pleaseth thee, thou doest electe’ (ll.1473-4). Scholars have debated how closely the theology of the play conforms to Calvinism, but the general presence of the central idea is clear, as it is in A new enterlude ... of the life and repentaunce of Marie Magdalene (printed 1566) by Lewis Wager. In this Protestant adaptation of the Catholic saint play, Mary Magdalene is saved despite her depraved past because she is elect. The utter despair of discovering that the route to salvation is closed is dramatized in The Conflict of Conscience (c.1580) by Nathaniel Woodes, in which the hero Philologus realizes that he is not elect. Theological differences over the doctrine of predestination can be found in the texts of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus (both of these appeared after his death, and incorporate material clearly added later, so neither is a secure guide to the first performance): in the A Text (1604) the Good Angel says ‘Never too late, if Faustus can repent’. In Calvinist terms, the reprobate, or unelected, is unable to repent because God witholds the grace needed for this – Claudius’s inability to repent although he wishes to (Hamlet, 3.3.36-72) may similarly indicate his predestined damnation. The B Text of Faustus (1616) changes ‘can repent’ to ‘will repent’, with the implication  that repentance lies in the will of Faustus: his faith rests with him and is not predetermined.

Doctor Faustus (c.1588) was the last overtly religious play to appear on the Renaissance stage. Acting companies and their managers must have felt that treatment of doctrine was simply too dangerous for the public stage. The Old Testament, in particular the Apocrypha, provided safely uncontroversial material for some plays (Thomas Garter, Godly Susannah (1568); George Peele, The Love of King David and Fair Bathsheba (1594)), and the histories of Josephus furnished the source for Lady Elizabeth Carew’s Mariana, the Fair Queen of Jewry (1613). But religious drama effectively disappeared from the stage. Milton’s Samson Agonistes (1671) is a closet drama, intended for private reading, not public performance.  But the absence of religious subject matter should not lead us into supposing that religious preoccupations disappeared from the theatrical imagination. Clearly they did not: damnation, repentance and the old Catholic concept of purgatory are openly referred to in Macbeth and Hamlet, the battles of vice and virtue are played out in Jonson’s Volpone and The Alchemist, doting idolatry is transmuted into comedy in A Midsumer Night’s Dream, Puritans are satirized, and the inner life of moral decision and spiritual feeling is an essential element of Renaissance drama. While doctrine and dogma cannot be explicitly mentioned in these plays, they unmistakably present to us the spectacle of man as a religious animal.